


Cinderella Faycen

by enaykin, Valka



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abuse of a Minor, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Blood Magic, Cinderella Elements, Cinderella Faycen, Dragon Age Fairy Tale AU, Halla - Freeform, M/M, Male Cinderella, Prince Vaeyin, Shapeshifter, abuse mention, crimson halla, implied slavery, since Faycen is forced to shapeshift, unstable magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10731789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enaykin/pseuds/enaykin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valka/pseuds/Valka
Summary: Fairy tale au in which Faycen is Cinderella and Vaeyin is Prince Charming with a Dragon Age spin. Will the downtrodden Faycen still get his happily ever after?Faycen Malik is written as a companion character to the Inquisitor.Valka tagged as co-author because she owns Vaeyin Lavellan, the Inquisitor.





	Cinderella Faycen

Once Upon A Time…

...there was a kingdom that flourished with good fortune, excellent crops, and the kind leadership of their gentle king. Under his rule his people had prospered and were happy, everything was as it should be in paradise. 

Oh, but this is a fairytale, and as such things are never as they seem. Not all was perfect in the palace, for the king’s only son Vaeyin refused to marry. He was well of age and his father had paraded only the best in the kingdom before his gaze, yet none had taken his fancy. Vaeyin was as gentle as his father, though decided of nature with a stubborn streak that could not be broken, matched only by his beauty. He refused to marry unless it was for love.

But the palace was not the only source of discontent in this placid, peaceful country. As always, the surface looked calm, peaceful, happy even, but delve beneath and find ruin and sorrow. Thus is was with several noble houses, holding their sordid secrets close. 

Our story lies with the Lady Elaine Delacroix and her two daughters Annette and Thessalia. They lived in a beautiful house in a prestigious neighborhood, surrounded by acres of rolling hills and breathtaking meadows that flowered magnificently in the springtime, as it was now. The Lady Delacroix’s second husband sadly passed, as had her first, leaving her the sole benefactor of the Malik mansion and all its lands. 

In truth, it should have gone to his only son and heir, a young boy who was only five on his death, but rumors had it the boy disappeared not long after the passing of his father. Lady Delacroix was appropriately distraught, spreading the tale of a stricken boy gone mad at the loss of his father. 

Here is where the tale takes a turn for the dark and evil. Not long after the death of his father, the only heir to his father’s fortune and land, the young boy Faycen came into his magic, marking him as one of the elite of the kingdom. However, his magic was unstable, and would need delicate teaching by the best teachers the Circle of Magi had to offer. This was not something Lady Delacroix could tolerate any further. 

In a fit of anger she had beaten the boy, dragging him into the lower parts of the house to avoid the notice of any who might happen by. 

And that was when it happened. 

Faycen, desperate to make the beating stop, resorted to the only self-defense mechanism he had. He morphed to the form of a small halla and attempted to run away.

Lady Delacroix was speechless, the boy was a shapeshifter, and with his magnificent crimson hair and sunset orange eyes any shape he took assumed that same bright coloring, making it an exotic creature indeed. If the fabled golden halla was a rare and treasured creature, then how much more so a _crimson_ halla? Malevolent thoughts began swirling through her mind, watching the poor fawn scrambling about the cellar, trapped in the confined space. 

And so it was, Faycen disappeared. Soon after, Lady Delacroix began to boast of a new prized possession. A crimson halla had been caught on her grounds, and she was keeping it as her pet, fitting it with a collar and harness to ensure it remained in the safety of her meadows. 

This collar was magically enchanted, for she was a powerful mage herself, preventing him from shifting back into his normal elf form. Only at night, when he returned to the house and the stables below it, was he allowed to shift back and rest, and then only in an enchanted cage to ensure he couldn’t shift into a smaller form and escape. In this way, Lady Delacroix built fame and fortune literally on the back of a young boy, day by day growing into a man in his captivity, forced into the shape of a halla each day to fuel her vanity and pride. 

But this indignity was not the only one he had to endure, no. Lady Delacroix was not satisfied with merely owning him, she broke him too, forcing him to accept saddle and bridle. Severe beatings and missed meals were his punishment for disobedience, many of them leaving significant scars on his elf form. 

There was no rest to be found when the lady was away either, for her daughters were just as cruel, and jealous of the pride she found in her treasured halla. His nights were plagued with no sleep, and often his meals would go missing even when he behaved. 

With a magical collar and no one looking for him, he knew this to be his lot in life, but he refused to allow it to break him. One day he would have his freedom. 

\---

The king’s health began to decline, and thus he became more desperate to see his son married before his death. It was therefore settled upon that his only recourse was a magnificent ball. A ball to rival the ages. One in which the cream of society would parade before the prince, and surely there he would find that which he sought. 

Malik mansion was a tizzy of excitement, all three women rushing around in determination. Surely they would be the woman to catch the prince's eye? 

For Faycen it was a reprieve. The lady was too busy for riding and the sisters were too preoccupied with primping and preening to bother with him. Alone, abandoned in the stables beneath the house, Faycen sat in his cage, wishing for the opportunity, even if it was only one night, to taste freedom. 

“Ugh! I thought you'd never actually do it!” A strange woman with hair that looked like a barber had gone half blind while cutting it popped into existence in the cellar stables with him.

“I've been waiting for you to make that wish for years, hun. What in the void took you so long?” The blonde stuck her hands on her lean hips and stared down at him, as if he should know exactly what she was talking about. 

Faycen glanced around a moment before pointing at himself. “Me?” 

“No, the OTHER poor guy forced into bestial slavery by his bitch of a step-mom. Of course YOU! I'm Sera, your fairy god sister, that's what we're going with anyways, and I'm here to FINALLY grant your wish. One night of freedom.” She beamed at him. 

“Well, can I change it then? Why not let me go free completely?” He stood slowly, holding onto the bars of his cage, giving her a pleading look that nearly broke her heart. 

“Unfortunately sweetie, the magic binding you here is very strong and I can't break it, but I _can_ bend it for a short time. Tonight is the big shebang at the palace, everyone will be there, biggest party of the century, so they say. Wouldn't want you to miss it.” 

With that the cage popped open and she stepped inside. 

“Now, the way this will work is I'll be putting a collar over the one she's got on you. It'll negate the effects of the spell that forces you to change when you're out of the cage, BUT it'll only last until the last stroke of midnight, so keep track of that time,” she said warningly before placing a shimmering gold collar over top the enchanted one. “Next, we gotta do something about these rags, ugh. Can't have you looking like a hobo, can we?” 

With a wave of her wand, obnoxiously colorful sparkles settled all around him and he wrinkled his nose before sneezing. On opening his eyes he found himself wearing a beautiful white, high collared tunic, open at the neck to display his collarbones, an orange sash that matched his eyes crossed his chest and draped down his back, and black pants and shoes completed the ensemble. Touching his hair briefly he found it clean and shining, pulled back from his temples into an elegant braid with the rest hanging free about his shoulders. 

“This is ridiculous. One night of freedom and I'm going to a ball? What am I even supposed to do there?” He felt almost awkward in the pristine clothing. 

“Dance! Eat! Socialize! Fall in love,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him and he frowned. “Oh, come off it! You'll have fun! Now get going! Your coach awaits. Magic like this ain't cheap, go enjoy yourself!” She hurried him out the door and into the magically summoned carriage, waving as it carried him off toward the palace. 

In the carriage Faycen settled back against the cushions. It wasn't like he could go far in one night, and the magic in the collar ensured he'd be back at the mansion by dawn. He shrugged, why not? He'd wanted one night, and now he had it. Best make the most of it. 

\---

Vaeyin was on his last nerve. 

He appreciated what his father was trying to do, he really did, but this was absurd. He felt like a horse being considered at market for auction. The first moment he was able he slipped away from the never ending line of introductions and nobles demanding his attention. 

Even if his love _was_ somehow here, he doubted he'd get to speak with them for more than a scant second before they were shoved off for the next introduction. He needed air. 

Avoiding the crowds as best he could and keeping his head down he made his way in the direction of the gardens, hoping to find them relatively empty. The guests were not supposed to wander there, but Fade help the poor sentries who tried to deny one of these stuck up nobles something they wanted. 

A flash of color caught his attention and he glanced along the row of white pillars that separated the ballroom and the gardens, finding himself staring at the most gorgeous elf he'd ever seen. Not only was his coloring striking, complete with liberal freckles, but his face was angular and handsome, not even the scars marring his features could detract from his attractiveness. 

Without realizing his direction had shifted, he found himself approaching the young man leaning against the pillar, watching the dancing couples. 

“Not interested in dancing yourself?” Vaeyin asked him with a smile, the breath punched out of him when those incredible sunset eyes focused on him in slight surprise. A soft smile lit his features. 

“I haven't found a suitable partner,” his eyes flicked over Vaeyin's figure and he found himself warming despite the cool breeze. “Although the night is young.” His smile widened and Vaeyin was transfixed, he was stunning when he smiled. 

“I desired some air, I found the ballroom a bit stuffy, care to join me for a brief walk about the gardens?” Vaeyin held out his hand in invitation. 

“Won't the prince be upset by that? They're supposed to be his pride and joy,” but the crimson haired beauty accepted his invitation anyway, offering his elbow to Vaeyin's hand and he took it, grinning widely. He didn't know he was speaking to the prince! All the better. 

“I'm sure he won't mind, we won't touch anything. What do you think of him?” They stepped into the moonlight together, walking at a sedate pace between the rows of carefully tended flowers. 

“The prince? Honestly I don't know much about him. Just that he's supposed to be handsome, obsessed with his flower garden, and very available.” The last part was said in such a flat voice that it took Vaeyin back. 

“You make that sound like a bad thing?” 

The redhead shrugged. “I don't know. He should be allowed to choose who he wants, when he wants. When someone is pressured into marriage is when it tends to all fall apart. No one should be forced to do what they don't wish to.” 

Somehow Vaeyin knew intuitively that the handsome stranger was talking more about himself than the prince, but the sentiment was greatly appreciated nonetheless. Warmth spread through his chest, considering his walking partner, realizing he wanted more than anything to know everything about him. 

For a while they walked and talked about trivial things. Whenever a more personal subject came up the redhead would smoothly dodge it, leaving Vaeyin craving more. Who was this mystery man? 

A soft, sweet song began to drift in on the night air from the ballroom and Vaeyin's face lit up. “Do you think you've found a suitable dancing partner?” He took up the man's hands and backed toward the dance floor, a coy look on his face. 

“Well, I-” the redhead looked hesitant. “I'm not exactly the best dancer.” But he let himself be led onto the floor. 

“Don't worry about it,” Vaeyin reassured him with a smile. “Just move how it feels right.” 

The music swept them away, Vaeyin allowing his partner to lead. At first he moved uncertainly, glancing around nervously, but it wasn't long before he relaxed, their bodies swaying close, moving to the rhythm. A warm flush settled on Vaeyin's cheeks when he realized the man seemed to only have eyes for him, his gaze fixed on his face, and especially on his cherry lips. 

As the song wound to a close both men gravitated back toward the gardens and the quiet solitude there. They barely made it beyond the pillars before Vaeyin found himself swept into strong arms, gasping when his handsome stranger stopped just short of his lips, as if afraid he didn't have permission. 

Vaeyin solved the dilemma for him, surging forward to meet him, the breath punched out of both of them at first contact. Without hesitation Vaeyin submitted to the movement of his lips, parting his own to let him in, their tongues sweeping and dancing, tasting, and Vaeyin about lost his head at the soft moan from his partner. 

Everything about him was perfection, from the feel of his muscular arms caging him in a safe and secure way, to the taste of his lips, his heady and earthy smell. And his freckles. _Creators_ , his freckles. Vaeyin wanted to find and map out every single one. 

“You're so beautiful,” the man sighed when they parted for breath, bringing a bright flush to Vaeyin's cheeks. His whole life he'd been complemented, told of his good looks, but somehow the reverence in his voice made all the difference. It wasn't empty flattery, it was an honest admission, spoken as if without forethought, without planning, with no designs. After all, he had no idea he was speaking to the prince. 

He leaned in to steal another quick kiss before pulling back and straightening his tunic. 

“Well, I uh...I think introductions are in order, because I absolutely must know more about you. My name is Vaeyin.” 

For a moment the man's orange eyes grew wide and he blinked at him in silence, but Vaeyin was expecting a reaction like that, smiling at him softly. 

“As in _Prince_ Vaeyin?” 

Vaeyin shrugged with a smile. “I suppose there _could_ be other Vaeyins out there, it's true.” 

“I've assaulted a prince. That's a new one.” 

Vaeyin threw his head back in a laugh. “If anything I assaulted _you_ , not the other way around.” 

“So I could demand reparations of the crown then?” The redhead’s voice dropped in tone, becoming husky and Vaeyin suppressed a shiver of delight as he moved closer, his breath warming Vaeyin's skin. 

“Even princes must be kept accountable,” Vaeyin murmured, his eyes fixed on the scar split lips moving closer. “And to whom do I owe reparations?” 

That seemed to give him pause, as if the dream was broken and he remembered something awful.

“I-I’m…” Vaeyin blinked at him as the man hesitated. “I can't-” 

Just then the clock tower began to toll. It was midnight. 

Vaeyin glanced at the tower, then back at his companion to find him backing away, a panicked expression on his dark face. 

“I have to go.” With that he whirled and began running, disappearing from sight almost instantly among the pillars, leaving Vaeyin feeling dazed and confused. What had just happened? 

No. No he was not letting the perfect man get away from him, not after it took so long to find him. “Wait! Come back!” He immediately gave chase, catching sight of his white tunic in the darkness once he'd cleared the pillars, sprinting for the gates. Okay, the man was seriously fast. 

“Please! Stop!” His shouts were ignored, the bells were reaching their final tones in the background as the man rounded the corner of the gate, disappearing from sight. “Please! If it was something I said-” he rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. The man had vanished. 

He completely missed the silhouette of a sleek halla leaping over the stone wall and disappearing into the night. 

A glimmer at his feet brought his gaze down to find the gold choker the man had been wearing, lying broken at his feet. A choked sigh escaped him as he slowly knelt, scooping it up tenderly, finding it still warm from resting against the man's skin. 

Why had he run? Had Vaeyin said something wrong? Was it because he was actually the prince? No, that didn't make sense, they had been joking about it only moments before-

Vaeyin's head came up and he looked at the now silent clock tower. The bells. He'd had a frightened look when the clock began to chime midnight. 

Why midnight? 

His eyes fell once more to the gold choker in his hands, gazing at it sadly. That was when he noticed something. The closure was broken as if snapped, but it was what was caught in it that drew his attention. Bright red crimson hair, not human hair. It was short, bristled animal hair. 

That...that made no sense, the man had shoulder length silky hair, unless…his eyes widened. Leaping to his feet he sprinted back toward the palace. It was time to get the dogs. 

\---

The moon was waning by the time Faycen bounded the fence into the yard, the pull of the enchanted collar strong. Once night fell it was like a tether, he could leave the grounds, but it wouldn’t be long before the magic pulled him back. And without a way to remove the collar it meant he was a prisoner. In his cage magic was negated, and in his cage was the only place he was allowed to be an elf, as such his own magic was useless there.

His head drooped as he slowly made his way toward the house and his entrance to the stables, pausing at his reflection in the garden pond. In reflex his head straightened, standing tall as the horned stag he was, regal in shape, a pet to be proud of. He cringed. Honestly, he’d forgotten what his human face looked like, it had been so long since he’d seen his elf reflection. At the ball he’d simply stood, as if staring out one of the windows, when in reality he was staring at his own reflection. He’d become quite handsome and hadn’t even known it. 

If anyone thought it unusual for a halla to sigh, they weren’t around to say so. Shuffling his hooves in the crunchy, early morning grass, he hung his head again, making his way inside so he could rest. Remaining shapeshifted so often was draining. More than once in the past he’d collapsed because of it, the magic of the collar forcing him to remain in halla form despite the fact that normally he would have shifted automatically back. 

At least he’d had his one night, he really couldn’t complain. He curled up in his cage, closed his eyes, and dreamed of perfect pale skin, bright emerald eyes, and flushed pink lips.

\---

_“You’ve gone stark raving mad!”_

Those were the words his father had flung at him when he’d demanded use of the hunting hounds. 

_“Using the hounds to hunt a runaway romance? That you think may not even be human anymore? My son has lost it. The kingdom is doomed.”_

Vaeyin had chuckled at his father’s dramatics and taken the hounds anyway, leaving his father to recline in misery, bemoaning the Creators for cursing him with such a blightedly odd son. 

Using the collar the hounds picked up the scent immediately outside the gates and were off, but it wasn’t long before they lost the trail. It seemed the creature he’d become was an elusive one. However, the collar had both scents, elf and animal. All he had to do was go from house to house. The man’s scent was sure to be all over his own home, possibly in both forms, it was simple really. 

Or so he thought. 

After the twentieth house it was well past midday and the dogs had picked up no trace of his quarry. Perhaps he really had just vanished? Perhaps he was fey folk. Or he’d imagined him entirely! His father probably thought that, at any rate.

The nobles at each house expressed their confusion and some indignation at allowing his hounds to sniff about their homes, but who was to deny the prince when he wanted something? Gossip spread like wildfire that he was looking to pick up the scent of the mysterious man he’d danced with at the ball. Every redheaded elf in the kingdom came running to their gates at seeing the prince’s approach, though all were left disappointed as the hounds merely sniffed and moved on.

At this rate Vaeyin wasn’t sure he’d ever find him. Perhaps he was from a neighboring kingdom?

Then, without warning, the head of his lead hound snapped up, looking all around and sniffing the air. His nose dropped to the dirt and he snuffled around, walking to and fro, hope rose in Vaeyin’s chest watching him. After a moment the hound threw back his head and howled long and low before taking off in a sprint, headed directly for the long drive of a large mansion set on a hill. Vaeyin turned his halla mount, bounding after the hound eagerly, more and more of them baying in triumph as they neared the house. 

The hounds became confused as they grew closer to the house, apparently the scent was everywhere, and they were attempting to ascertain the newest source of it. 

At that moment, a lady on halla-back rounded the corner and Vaeyin’s eyes grew wide. She was riding a crimson halla, after a moment he remembered he’d heard something about that, a noble woman with a rare colored halla. 

“What’s all this raucous? What’s going on?” With an ungentle jerk of her hands she reigned in her halla and immediately the dogs were on them, circling the mount and baying loudly. But Vaeyin’s eyes were fixed on the creature, whose sunset orange eyes widened on seeing him and began to back up as if spooked, prancing in place when she kicked him viciously. “What are you doing?! Call your dogs off, for Fade’s sake! They’re spooking my halla!”

After a moment of floundering with her mount she took a good look at Vaeyin, who was dismounting his own halla, and realized who she was snapping at. 

“A-apologies, your highness! I didn’t realize they were your hounds, but they seem to be frightening my mount, you see-” 

“The only one hurting him is _you_. Now get down. NOW.” The prince's voice brooked no arguments and she immediately clamored from the saddle, stammering out a demand for information.

“If you value your life you will be silent,” he snapped as he took hold of the reigns, the halla tossing his head nervously, still attempting to back away. But Vaeyin thought he caught something other than fear in those intelligent eyes: humiliation. His heart broke and he laid his hand reassuringly on the halla’s face.

“I am so sorry, do not be afraid.” With sure, quick movements he removed the saddle and bridle, gently taking the bit from his mouth, but that wasn't the source of the magic. 

His hands glowed gently, seeking something. The collar buried in his fur around his neck glowed bright malevolent purple in response and his face tightened. 

“Your highness, whatever you're looking for I'm sure-” 

“SILENCE!” 

Her mouth snapped shut. No one had ever heard the prince speak in anger and she stared at him wide eyed. He was beyond furious when he realized what had been done and he immediately set to work, casting a spell to unravel the magic contained in the collar. It was strong magic, very old, but Vaeyin was one of the most talented mages in the kingdom. 

Finally the threads of magic were undone, the collar fell away leaving a large patch of scarred and hairless skin where it had lain for years. Vaeyin took a step back as the halla made a pained braying sound and all but collapsed, his form morphing and changing, reducing in size, fur giving way for dark amber brown colored and freckled skin, horns disappearing in favor of long silky red hair, hands and feet taking the place of hooves. 

Moments after it had begun the halla was gone, replaced by the familiar form of the elf he'd chased after at the ball. Vaeyin collapsed to his knees beside the panting man who was resting on his hands and knees, head down, his hair hiding his face. 

“Thank the Creators, it IS you. I found you.” Gently he cupped his chin and made him look up, his heart shattering a little more when he refused to look at him, his eyes downcast. Then his gaze fell on the scar spanning his throat from years of wearing the collar and his temper boiled over. 

“ _You_ ,” he hissed, rising to his feet, cheeks flushed in anger, moving between the lady and her victim. “Slavery is illegal, a seriously punishable offense-” 

“Prince or not,” she snarled, “I will NOT go to prison! I did not work all these years to have my hard earned spoils ruined now!” Before Vaeyin could ready a defense she was already casting, power building between her outstretched hands. 

A feral cry rang out from behind him and he was knocked to the ground, watching in awe as the redhead bodily stood between them. Without even needing to cast he threw out his hands and torrential fire poured forth, incinerating everything in a wide cone before him. 

Not only was she completely gone, but so was everything around her, leaving nothing but scorched earth behind. 

Before Vaeyin could even gather his wits the man turned frantically and grabbed the collar, shoving it in Vaeyin's direction. “Put back! It holds my magic at bay!” His voice was tinged with desperation, and honestly Vaeyin likely wouldn't have needed to be a mage to feel the power rolling off him in ripples. This man was unique, his connection to the fade much more intimate than the normal mage, but he'd been locked away, like a thing to be used and was never allowed to learn to control it. 

“No no, that's not necessary, you simply need to be taught.” He took his hands gently between his own. “I can teach you if you wish?” 

Orange hesitantly met green and he quirked a small smile. “You do owe me reparations I suppose.” 

Vaeyin laughed out his relief, reaching up and gathering his face in his hands, pulling their foreheads together. “That I do, but I can't pay them until I know who I'm paying to.” 

“Faycen,” he grinned. “Faycen Malik.” 

\---

Their courtship was a short one, with much exasperated sobbing and heartfelt relief on the king’s part. Faycen all but moved into the palace, having taken over rightful ownership of Malik mansion and it's lands, ousting both step-sisters. But with the return of his father's fortune he was having the estate overhauled and refurbished, to help eliminate the residual presence of that horrible woman. 

Time and careful tutelage by Vaeyin helped Faycen bring his magic under control, making him a formidable mage. The scars there was little they could do for, but Faycen simply wore a choker in public to cover the mark left by the collar. 

As in all fairy tales, the wedding was magnificent. Massive in scale with celebrations lasting all week long, the entire country in attendance, gifts, decorations, the hustle and bustle of preparations. Faycen felt overwhelmed, but Vaeyin was a steady presence by his side through it all and he couldn’t have been happier. 

Hand in hand, they walked into a brilliant future, together.

**Author's Note:**

> enaykin.tumblr.com


End file.
